


1783 Days

by Bolt41319



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Multi, OQAngstFest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-06-25 23:12:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15650886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bolt41319/pseuds/Bolt41319
Summary: She walked into his doctors office with a skinny toddler strapped to her back, and a fearful future ahead of her.Now a multichapter, originally written for #OQAngstFest prompts #10, 20, 27, 41, 45, 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of Sexual Assault, Violence, Suicidal Thoughts

Day 1783

He barely hears the meek  _ excuse me  _ that leaves her lips as she stands before him in the sterile and uncomfortable doctors office. But oh, is he forever grateful he hears her. 

His first sight of her is burned into his memory. Her deep brown eyes reflect fire and uncertainty. The swell above her left brow makes him wince, as does the dried cut that flows from her left cheekbone to the center of her chin. Her whole face is a frightening shade of purples and yellows. 

The next thing he sees is the sleeping boy strapped to her back. His forehead rests against her right shoulder, and his right hand is gripping the collar of her shirt tightly. He can’t be more than 3, and the sight of his weight is visibly alarming. 

His eyes trail down to the equally as alarming size of her. Her torso is drowned by a thin black hoodie, and legs are covered by an equally dark pair of leggings. Her shoes are ripped and repaired with tape to hold on the bottoms. She’s frightfully thin, like she’s been starved for years. 

He blinks once, and steps from behind the counter to move toward her. She walks back, bumps the boys back into the door behind her. 

“No-” she stops him. 

“Ma’am.” He reaches his hand out hesitantly, and lets it linger in the air between them. “I’m Dr. Locksley. Robin. I’m not sure what is wrong, but I would like to look over you and your boy there. That’s a nasty gash you’ve got on your head.” 

She stares at him for a moment, puzzled as the mere kindness of a stranger. 

“What year is it?” She asks, her voice still nothing more than a whisper. 

“The year? Ma’am, it’s 2018. Why don’t you..” he trails off, and his eyes meet hers again. He’s seen those eyes before, but from where he can’t place it. 

Until it clicks. 

“Oh my gods you’re-”

“Regina. Regina Mills. I- I need help.”

Day 28

_ “In other news, the 19 year old Regina Mills is still missing. Her Mother Cora Mills, the current senator, has issued a statement offering a reward of 25,000 dollars for any information regarding her disappearance. Her sister, Zelena, was interviewed this afternoon by one of our reporters.” _

_ “Please, please help us find my sister. She’s just a kid, and we’re all so worried about her. My sister is an incredible person who would do anything for anyone. Please, if you have her, bring her back home.” Tears began to fall from Zelena’s face, and the news switched back over to the reporter. _

Robin Locksley sat on his couch, nursing a cold beer while he watched the news. “That poor girl” he mutters to himself, sipping his beer again. He picks up his medical binder and continues to study for his exam the following morning. 

Months pass, and the same statement is replayed on the TV. Each night, he watched as her picture flashed up on the screen; a young girl, smiling beside a horse. The look in her eyes intrigued him every time he saw her picture on the news, or in the paper. She looked scared, but strong. Even in a seemingly normal picture of a young girl at a horse competition, he felt something was wrong. 

Day 1

“Mother,  _ please _ ” she cries out.

“Dear, you’re causing a scene. This is simply a strategy. You’re going to go up to the cabin for a few weeks, cause a stir. We’ll start a search party, get some hints out that you’ve been taken up toward the border. The police will come, you’ll be rescued, we will rejoice. Just look at it like it’s summer camp.” 

“Camp? You’re having me  _ kidnapped  _ so you look better in the polls. Kidnapped, Mother! I’m your daughter. I’m not fucking doing this!” 

“Language, dear” Cora growls. “You will do this. It’s just a part of the cause.” 

Regina throws her arms up in anguish. “A part of the cause? Are you kidding me! I’m not doing this, mother. You have to find yourself a new way to earn sympathy votes. I’m not your fucking guinea pig to try new ideas on. Maybe if you weren’t such a shady, shitty politician you’d be-”

The slap against her cheek echoes through the mansion dining room. Cora glares down at her youngest daughter. “You” her hand wraps around Regina’s forearm and squeezes. “Shut” her other arm comes up around her throat. “Your mouth. You will do this Regina. This is not an option. And if you don’t, you can kiss any dream you have of going to that college you want goodbye. I’m done arguing with you about this.” She releases Regina with a shove and walks back toward the table. 

“The car will be here within the hour. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 

Day 1783

The hesitation he sees in her eyes breaks his heart. 

“Regina I need to examine you too. Henry’s okay. He’s a little malnourished, but aside from that he’s okay. You’ve protected him this whole time. He’s safe.” 

Her eyes never leave Henry, but he can see the tears pooling. Her bottom lip begins to tremble and her hand shakes as it reaches out to stroke her sons hair. “What’s the point anymore? You examine me, you’re going to look at me like everyone else is going to once they realize i’m back. Once this all comes to light, it’ll be over. My baby’s going to have to answer to these awful people and I’m going to, well, let everyone see me how I am. I’m broken.” The tears start to fall, and her shoulders shake. “He deserves so much more than this. Than a mother who couldn’t protect him from this awful world.”

“Regina, listen to me.” He hand extends out toward her, but he lies it on the bed, open for her to hold if she wants. “Your son is safe. He is a healthy little boy. Just look at him. When we wakes up, he’s going to be so happy to see his Mommy, and that’s all he’ll know. You need to take care of yourself. And to start that, you need to let me at least look at your head. That’s such a deep gash, and I’m worried about it.” 

When she lifts her head, it’s the first actual time she makes eye contact with him. “If- If I let you look, you need to promise me one thing. No cops.” 

“ I can’t promise that, Regina. You were missing for years. Someone needs to pay.” 

She shakes her head, and glances at Henry then back to him. “I’ll tell you everything, soon. But please, no cops. I- I can’t handle cops.” She starts to shake, and a tremble comes into her voice. “If there’s cops i’ll disappear, I swear I-”

“Okay, okay” he stops her. “No cops. There’ll be no cops. But I need to look at your head. It’s starting to bleed again.”

Regina rises, slowly, and walks toward Robin. “I’m not leaving Henry.”

He nods, “And I don’t expect you to. Just sit there, on the edge of his bed. I’ll go grab some antiseptic, and a suture kit. You just lay down. Cuddle up with your son for a minute. You deserve it.” 

When he comes back into the room, he finds her crying as she strokes her son’s hair. She wipes her eyes quickly and sits back up, but the tears still come. He tries to pretend he doesn’t see it, to give her the privacy she deserves. But as he comes in front of her with a tray of medical supplies to clean up her face, he can’t help but extend his hand out to her again. 

“Regina, if you want, you can take my hand.” 

She licks her lower lip before biting down, and contemplates him, whether she can trust him or not. She reaches up hesitantly, but stops. Her fingertip touches his lightly. “Your story needs to be heard, not now. But Regina, whoever did this to you” he gesture to her cuts and bruises, “they need to pay. And you deserve to heal, properly heal. Taking care of yourself is the first step.”

She nods, and looks down at her hand now resting in his palm. “I’ll try.”

Day 243

“Please let me out!” 

Her fist collides with the door again and again. The only sound in the room is her heaving breaths and the vibrating door as she punches over and over. She stops, frozen against the door, taking in the overwhelming silence. 

Across the room, marks line the walls, counting her time in this room. 243 days since her mother sent the Sheriff to pick her up from her home. 243 days since she’d seen her family, or her friends. 243 chalk marks along a wooden wall, reminding her of all the time spent in this hellish state. 

Her mother had said it’s only be a month, maybe two. “Summer camp” she called it. Fuck summer camp. Fuck all of this. Almost a year of her life spent in a cabin in the woods in Maine, all by the own hand of her rotten mother. 

She slips down the wall and sits with her head between her knees. As she begins to cry, she hears the door to her trapped hell open. 

“Get the fuck up” he grumbles. The man tosses a hoodie over to her and waits as she scrambles to put it on. The temperatures are getting colder and colder as the days go on, and regardless of her drive to fight the bastards holding her captive, she can’t do it if she’s died of hypothermia. The man reaches out and takes her arm, twists it behind her back and handcuffs her wrists together. 

“Where are you taking me?” 

He quickly grabs her by the back of the neck and squeezes, bringing her face close to his. His hot, smelly breath worms it’s way down the side of her neck as he whispers to her that if she doesn’t shut up, he’ll “put something in that mouth of hers to make her quiet.” 

When they get to the living room she finds the Sheriff that drug her here in the first place, as well as two older men she’d never seen before. 

“Regina, say hello please” the Sheriff instructs. His badge, still pinned to his chest, reads Nottingham. 

“What is all this? When am I going home? Who the hell are they?” 

The man holding her back tightens his grip and squeezes her arms together behind her, making her grimace in pain. “No no darling, he said say hello. No one asked for your smart mouth.” 

He doesn’t loosen the hold on her until she finally mumbles a hello toward the other men in the room. 

“You see gents, I told you this one was feisty. She’s yours for the price of a million. 500 thousand upfront today, and another 500 thousand when you’ve found yourself  _ satisfied _ with the product.” 

“No!” Regina screams. She begins thrashing in the arms of the man restraining her, trying to break free. “Absolutely not! This was not a part of the plan, you can’t  _ sell me _ to someone! I’m not a piece of meat, I’m a person. Please, please don’t do this.” She throws her head back and connects with the man's nose. He yelps, but before she can run his foot connects with the back of her knee and she falls to the ground. 

Nottingham reaches down and pulls her up by her arms, his hand coming around her throat to hold her still. “Hush now Regina. This isn’t the time to be angry.” 

She spits directly into his face. “I have every right to be angry! Fuck you, fuck  _ all  _ of you! This was never the plan. When my mother-”

He barks out a laugh that silences her. “Your mother? Idiot girl, your mother gave up on saving you long ago. Your sister believes you’re dead, and well, had your father not died before in that oh so tragic boating  _ accident,  _ this wouldn’t be happening right now. No one cares about you. No one loves you. Your mother told me to do with you what I sought fit, and selling you to the highest bidder is exactly that. If you thought you were in hell before, you haven’t seen anything yet. Now shut the hell up and meet your new family. Mr. Blanchard, Mr. Gold, meet Regina Mills.” 

 

Day 1783

After some persuasion from Robin, and the newly awake Henry, Regina’s wounds have finally been tended to. A thin bandage stretches down the side of her face from her cheek to her chin. After she took off her sweatshirt, he cleaned the slow healing wounds that covered her arms. The skin around her wrists was scarred over more than he cared to think about. Remnants of rope burns and too tight handcuffs left angry red marks across her skin. 

He could sense the shame she felt as his hands tended to her skin. Henry, who had taken to Robin instantly, wanted to be as helpful as he could. 

“Can I hold dat?” He points to the tube of ointment Robin had been using to cover Regina’s scars. 

“Of course lad” he says as he passes the tube over. “Henry, know what I think you’d be great at?” 

He shakes his head. “No, but I’m good at lots a things, like coloring and holding Mommy’s hand. What else can I be good at? I like learning too.” 

Robin nods his head over toward Regina. “I think you’d be  _ great _ at snuggling up to your Mum there. She needs a little extra love today while I make sure she’s okay. Can you do that for her?” 

He nods enthusiastically and clambers up into her lap quickly. “I am the best snuggler. Mommy says so every night before we go to sleep. She says my snuggles keep the monsters away, but I think it’s her because when the mean men would come in she would make sure that they never came near me and she’d yell at them when they made me scared.” 

Robin's eyes dart to Regina, whose face pales at Henry’s confession. She looks toward him, pleading with her eyes for him to not mention anything. He gives her a single nod, and they stay silent as Henry continues to tell them about all of the other things he’s good at, like eating noodles without spilling them and playing hide and seek. 

Hours later, Regina eyes fight to stay open as she and Henry lay comfortably in the hospital bed. 

“Regina” Robin sighs, “get some sleep.” 

She shakes her head and clutches her sleeping son tighter to her chest. “I’m fine” she whispers. “I gave that up a long time ago.” 

“You need to rest, Regina. I’ll be right here. No one will come in or out of this building. You’re safe now, and your body needs time to heal.” 

She glances down at Henry and nods. “He’ll be hungry when he wakes up. He likes bagels.” Her lip starts to tremble, and she fights the tears as she looks back up at Robin. “Thank you, for helping us. I- It's been so long since he’s, since  _ we’ve  _ seen any kindness. It truly means everything to me.” She takes his hand and squeezes it gently, not once breaking eye contact with him. 

He smiles, and holds her hand in return. “Bagels it is. I’ll order in, and I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” 

It’s the first time she sleeps soundly in years. 

Day 540

“Fuck!” 

The sweat pours down her face, and her hands grasp the metal bars surrounding her. Leopold stands above her, the bastard, glaring down as she cries out. The doctor they’ve paid off, some asshat by the name of Whale, tells her to push again. 

“Can’t you do anything without being so over dramatic” Gold sighs from the corner. He’s leaning against the door of her constant hell, waiting carefully to make sure they haven’t been heard. 

“You know she can’t. Always causing a scene, this one” Leopold agrees. His hand extends out to comb through her hair but she moves away, growls out something about how she doesn’t want them anywhere near her. As she pushes again the agonizing scream rips from her throat before she falls back. Moments later, the sound of a babies cry fills the room, and she bursts into tears. 

What kind of person is she, to bring a baby into this fucked up world. How can she be so happy in this moment, knowing her son may never see the outside world. May never know life past this prison they’ve been forced in to. He’ll grow up one day to realize he was conceived out of a rape, and he’ll resent her for it. Knowing that his own soul was created against her free will, by a man who loves nothing more than pure and uncontrollable power. 

Whale sets the baby on her chest and her arms instantly come up to wrap around her baby boy. Leopold scoffs about how sentimental she is, and Gold comments how she shouldn’t get used to him. 

Regina protectively holds her son, and the fire in her eyes actually makes Gold step back. 

“No” she demands. “You’ve already taken my freedom, my virginity, my  _ life.  _ You’ve trapped me in this hell for over a year. But you will  _ not  _ take my son. I don’t care which one of you bastards he has to share DNA with, but that’s it. You two are nothing to him, and you never will be. He’s my son. Mine to love, and to protect. If you come as close as laying a hand on him, I will do everything I can to get out of here. I’d die rather than let either of you have any say in his life.”

Day 1798

The first moment the sun hits her skin, she almost cries with relief. The senses surrounding her are overwhelming. She hears her son’s unfiltered laughter as he runs through the field outside Robin’s office, rolling around in the grass with the stuffed dragon he’d gotten from Robin the day earlier. 

She smells the flowers surrounding his office. The roses and tulips, bright pinks and reds and yellows, fill her heart with joy and color and life. 

The scars that mar her her arms and legs stay uncovered as she takes in all she’s missed. Over 4 years she spent locked in a house in the middle of the woods, away from any friends or normal 20 year old activities. Just her and her little boy against the evils of the world. 

She watches as Henry pulls Robin out into the field with him, smiles at the unconditional happiness that radiates from her son. “Mama, watch!” He yells as Robin lifts him and tosses him high into the air. 

Her smile spreads as she walks toward them. “Good job baby. Are you having fun?” 

“So much fun! Robin says dat if I spin around real fast I’ll feel dizzy so I shouldn’t.” 

She scoops up her son into her arms and presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. “He’s right, dear. Don’t spin around too fast or your tummy will hurt.” 

Robin jogs over toward them with a grin. “It’s good to see you outside.” 

“Feels good to be outside” she smiles. “I need to find my sister.” 

“Zelena?” 

The air escapes her as she quietly sets Henry down, tells him to go run off and look at the flowers. Once he’s out of earshot, she turns back to Robin. 

“How do you know her name? How did you know about who I was? Wh- when I was trapped they said I was dead. That my mother and my sister has a funeral for me. That no one would even care if I came back. And I knew, I  _ knew _ that they might be lying, trying to break me. But damn, it worked didn’t it. 

They made me believe Zelena had forgotten about me. My mother, I knew she hated me. She’s the whole reason I was gone in the first place. But Zelena, we were always close. I didn’t want to think she’d left me, but how could they not. 4 years, I was trapped in that hell. Day after day, I hoped they’d just kill me. Just put the gun to my head let me finally be. 

And then I had Henry. That beautiful boy was put in my arms and I felt something. I wanted to live for him. I wanted to live so that he would be able to see life outside of a cabin in the woods. So he could go outside and run like every other little boy in the world. I didn’t think we would ever make it out.” 

He stays focused on her, but watches Henry chases after a butterfly he found in the field. “Regina” he whispers, “your picture, your name, everything was on the news for the first year you were gone. Every night I would watch the news, and they would tell your story. Your sister did countless interviews, offered up everything for your return. The only reason, I believe, that she fell for the ruse about your death was your mother. After you were gone, Cora skyrocketed in the polls. By the time things settled, and your sister was one of the only people that was furiously looking for you, she got angry. You could see it in interviews she did for her campaign. So suddenly, your body was found and you’d been proclaimed dead.” 

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes once more. “So my sister, she might be okay? With all of this?” 

“If there’s one thing I can get behind fully, it’s that your sister will be thrilled.” 

Regina turns her head and looks at him, truly, for the first time. “Thank you, for everything. For taking care of us, and patching me up. I- I was so afraid to leave that awful place, not knowing where I would end up, if we would survive. It’s been so long since I trusted anyone… I’m happy we found you.” 

Day 1640

“Mommy.” His whimper breaks her heart, a million shattered pieces of what was barely left there since the day she was taken. 

She scoops her son into her arms and presses a kiss to his hair. “Yes baby?” She takes a deep breath, embracing his toddler scent and his undenying love.

He nuzzles himself into her chest with a heavy sigh. “When can we leave? I don’t like the scary men, they make you cry.” 

“Soon, love. I promise, it’s soon.” 

After she rocks him to sleep, she pulls out the notebook from under her bed and begins adding to their timeline. 1640 days in captivity, and she’s almost finally figured out how to escape her hell. 

There’s a system that Leopold and Gold follow. Never once has she been truly left alone in the cabin, between the two of them and their lackeys. After Henry was born, their leniency grew. The best time to leave was early in the morning. Leopold Blanchard, the stupid oaf, spent most of his time at the cabin with his new girlfriend. A younger, more annoying version of the Regina who used to live in the real world. The girl had no clue that anyone else lived in the house; Henry had learned early on when Leopold threatened to lay hands on him that when he was in the house, it was best to play silent. 

Gold, however, was less private. He wasn't as violent with Regina, not since Henry had turned two, but she still had that underlying anxiety whenever he walked into the room. But he would linger, watch her son play with the blocks they’d brought him, stare at her as she would read the limited books they allotted her a month. On day 1593, when Henry was napping, he tried to come in. The smell of stale cigarettes and old man cologne overwhelmed her as he backed her into the wall. 

“Can you keep your mouth shut” he growled into her ear. Before the fear could take her completely, she brought her knee up and swiftly hit him between his legs. He doubled over quickly, and his hand came up and connected against her face. 

“You fucking bitch” he started, about to hit her again, when she heard Henry’s cry. Gold backed away, his eyes darting between Henry and her. Her son was now awake and crying, clutching his favorite red block to his chest. The quiet  _ mama  _ coming from him made her tears flow even more. 

“Get. Out” she glares, her chest heaving. Gold stands before her, still clutching himself, and it breathes fire through her. “I said, get out. Or a lot more will hurt more than your fucking balls.” 

He raises a hand to her again, before pulling away and leaving the room. “This isn’t the end of this.”

She immediately runs to Henry and picks him up, bringing her to his chest. “Mama hurt” he cries, patting her cheek carefully. 

The tears threaten to fall at her beautiful son’s innocence. The first time Henry had watched her get hit, she thought she’d never forgive herself. The guilt ate away at her heart as she realized how her son had already seen more violence than she wanted him to in his lifetime. As he clutched her shirt and fell back asleep, she held him closer and decided it was time to go. If they didn’t find a way out soon, they would die in here. 

Since that day, she spent her nights plotting a way out. She tracked their every movement within her notebook, creating her own code so that if they ever found the book, she’d just look as if she was finally going insane. She kept track of their daily routines, from going to the bathroom to each meal, to the shows they watched and the hypothetical times she believed they came on. She matched the times each week, for the past 6 weeks. Her plan had them getting out of here within the next few months. They just had to wait for the right moment. 

Day 1810

“You can do this.” 

She sits in the car in front of the large white mansion, staring out at the pristine gras and picturesque floral arrangements. Henry bounces in his carseat in the back, holding tightly onto the lollipop he’d stolen from Robin’s hidden stash under the counter. 

“Ya mommy! You can do it!” 

Regina turns and smiles at her little boy. She finally got his hair cut, away from the long tangles that reminded them both of the time they wanted to forget. He looked older now, as old as an almost 4 year old could look. “Henry, i’d like you to stay in the car with Robin while I go to the house, okay?” 

He glares for a moment, looking between her and Robin. There hadn’t been a moment since they escaped that they hadn’t been within a few feet of one another. While her heart was pounding with anxiety, she knew that Robin was safe. He’d showed them consistent kindness since she walked into his office 27 days ago.  She couldn’t figure out why, but she trusted him. And after a lifetime of not having a reason to trust anyone, it felt nice to trust someone for once. 

“But mama, I want to go too” he whines. As his bottom lip starts to tremble, her resolve quickly breaks. 

She unbuckles herself and reaches back to run a hand over his cheek. “Okay, that’s fine. But i’m telling you, you’re going to meet someone very important to Mommy, who will probably be very surprised that we’re here.”

He nods, and pops his lollipop back into his mouth. “I’ll be on my bestest behavior, I promise.” 

The walk up to the house is agonizing. With every step, dread fills her body and weighs her heart. What if she doesn’t believe them? What if  Zelena isn’t even here. That’s rubbish, as she made Robin park them across from the house to watch her sister walk in, so she knew. 1810 days since she’d last seen her sister; since she’d hugged one of the only people to ever care about her. 

Henry holds her hand tightly as they walk up to the big house. As he eyes up the doorbell, he tugs on her arm. Robin had taken them to a department store days before, and since Henry had seen an elevator he’d been fasticanted with things to push. “Mommy, mommy can I please push the button?” He tugs and pleads, but stops as she places a hand to the back of his head. 

“Of course, go ahead. Just once though.” She doesn’t believe she would have been able to ring the bell herself. 

In what feel like years later, the door finally opens. 

“Hey Z.” 

The scream that rips from her sister was not what she expected. 

Henry gets behind his mother quickly, his sticky fingers tighten around her jeans. She reaches a hand around and lightly scratches her nails against the back of his head, her thumb running circles over his neck. 

“You- you’re- oh, oh my god” Zelena cries, throwing her arms around her sister. 

Regina’s free hand comes up and tightens around her sister. The tears begin to flow from both of them as they stand together, trying to make up for all of the time they’d lost. 

“I thought you were dead” Zelena cries while she pulls away, cupping her younger sisters cheek. “They found your body, you were… It was awful.”

Regina grips her sisters forearm and shakes her head. “It wasn’t me. I- it’s a really, really long story. But before we get into all that, there’s someone I want you to meet.” She bends down and pulls up the now incredibly shy Henry into her arms. “Zelena, I want you to meet your nephew, Henry Daniel Mills.” 

Day 1783

She hasn’t smelled trees in 1783 days. 

Stars twinkling overhead, the sunrise coming up on the horizon, bird chirping and bugs clicking, and all of the other things she’d taken for granted in her first 19 years of life begin to overwhelm her. 

She kicked off the ratty shoes she’d found tucked under the sofa, letting her toes crinkle the grass and the dew stick between her toes. A huff of breath from her sleeping son against her neck reminded her of the goal; time to go home. 

The makeshift sarong she’d created out of the disgusting bed sheet she slept on held Henry tightly against her back. They had tested it out the day before, as he laughed about how he felt like he was in a cocoon like he learned about in his butterfly book. 

When she sat him down the night before, and explained to him that it was time for them to go, that they were no longer going to live in the cabin in the woods, he hugged her tighter than she could ever remember. The bliss of a 4 year old was that his questions were more based around things he wanted to do, things he’d learned in his books. He wanted to see the water, and touch a fish. He wanted to pet dogs and cats and any other fuzzy creature he could find. The innocent heart of her beautiful son would finally be free from this hell. She could finally give him the life he deserved, away from abuse and torment and they inevitable death they were coming toward. 

Convincing Leopold to let her out for a moment had been the hardest part. 

His new girlfriend only came up to the cabin on days that he was not trading off with Gold, but with whatever schmuck they’d convinced to watch her for the week. The downside to the lackeys was that they were always on top of her space, sitting outside of her door, taking away any chance they had to leave without supervision. 

She’d timed out their schedules perfectly. For two days, Gold was in the cabin. His eagerness to touch made it impossible to leave with him watching; usually because his time was spent with her, while Henry cried in the next room for his mama. Then, Leopold would come up for a day with Gold, and together they would strap her up and demean her until she wished for death. Then, the hired help would come up for two days. These days were spent with her son, reading their new books and building castles out of the little blocks he had, or drawing. Most of the help would ignore her, except for one. For what little compassion he could muster, Midas was a softie for her son. He would sneak in things for them, toys for Henry, books for them both, enough to make the days pass before he’d come back on his rotation. Then, Leopold would come up with his girlfriend and Regina would be left alone for two days. 

In the middle of the night, Leopold and his girlfriend slept soundly in the bed in the living room. She snuck out quietly, leaving Henry curled into their bed, and followed the path she’d practiced every week for the past 4 months. She made it into the kitchen, worked her way into the drug cabinet, and crushed up all of the sleeping pills she could find. She knew that Gold used them to help him sleep, had watched him pop the pills every evening. 

She made her way over to their bed, after weeks of practicing silent walking in her room while Henry slept. After dumping the powder into the two waters that sat on the table, she made her way back into the room, and watched through the door crack for them to wake. 

A few hours later, after she’d watched the two of them wake up before the sunrise, have a quick fuck (a part which she looked away during with disgust) and ensured that they’d drank the water, she knew it was time. 

And now, she found herself walking barefoot through the woods, following the sunrise east. Within hours when she found a road, she slipped her shoes back on and walked until the sunset, when she came upon a doctors office; a sanctuary for her and the napping toddler on her back.

Day 260

She wants to die. 

Every bone in her body, each ounce of blood that courses through her veins, every thought she has pushes toward death. She didn’t know, at first, what it was like to be truly captive. The first few months were hard, but the officers that rotated their time with her were never as bad as Leopold and Gold were. 

They took turns with her, poking and prodding her with things she’d never wished to see. The ropes and handcuffs that they alternated to bound her wrists tore into her skin so the dried blood caked her forearms. 

On this day, both of them had taken a trip to the cabin. 

As they took over, her mind went blank. She imagined she was back on a beach in Martha’s Vineyard with her family in the summer. Her mother would be off schmoozing some rich man into funding her campaign, so she, Zelena, and their father would lounge around by the ocean, building sandcastles and creating fairytales of heroes and villains. 

By the time she came to, her body felt sore and broken. Blood traced patterns over her skin, ran down her legs and back. Fresh bruises covered her pale skin, ugly purples and greens forming along her curves. She licked her lips and winced at the metallic taste of blood coming from her skin. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she prayed to whatever Gods may be that something rescue her from her hell. 

Day 1842

She startles awake, her hand clutched to her chest, shaking on the verge of panic. The shrill screams of “Mommy” ring out again, and in seconds she is out of bed and running down her sisters hallway toward her baby boy. 

Throwing open the door she sees him curled into his sheets, his body trembling and eyes scanning the room. “They’re here” he cries harder. She climbs into the bed and pulls Henry into her lap, cradling him close to her chest as she whispers love into his ear. 

“No, baby. No one’s here. Just me, you, and your Aunt Zelena. You’re safe, I promise.” 

His nightmares had been increasing since they had escaped from the cabin. While at Robins office, and the hotel he put them up in, the two of them were still sharing a bed, so his thrashing and fears were easily fixable. She would reach over and tuck him close into her arms before he could start crying. Now at her sisters, every few hours she was woken by a scream. She laid down in his bed and held him in her arms, her shirt soaking up his blubbering tears. 

His hands gripped her shirt tighter as his breathing began to even. “I want to go see Robin” he whimpered. 

He’d been asking more and more to go see Robin throughout the past month. Robin had been giving them both check-ups each week, monitoring their weight and mental state from being in captivity for so long. He recommended that she and Henry see a therapist, but the only people who knew of her return were Zelena and Robin. Her fear of police involvement and the names of those who held her captive for so long being released stopped her from seeking any treatment. 

Her fear for Henry’s mental state, however, made her heart rip into pieces. Her baby needed help, and regardless of her fears, he was always more important. 

Day 1915

_ This just in- _

_ Missing teenager Regina Mills has been found safe after almost 5 years in captivity. Miss Mills was reported missing back in June of 2013 by her mother and sister. After a lengthy police investigation, a body was reportedly found and Miss Mills was presumed dead. Senator Cora Mills, her mother, held a press conference thanking everyone for their search efforts, and mourned the loss of her daughter back in 2015.  _

_ Miss Mills returned home in April of this year. She will be holding a press conference releasing the details of her captivity within the next few minutes. Her sister, Zelena, will be by her side.  _

_ Details of Miss Mills disappearance and return have not yet been released to the public, however a police investigation has been reopened and there is report that an arrest will be made.  _

“Robin, I can’t do this.” 

In the four months since her return, Regina had finally given in to Robin and Zelena’s requests for her to get help. After her and Henry’s disturbing nightmares continued, she allowed Robin to report his initial findings to the police, and she sought out a therapist to help them process the last 4 years of their life. 

After daily therapy sessions and encouragement from Robin, she finally allowed the police to interview her and Henry for their side of the story. The police agreed that arrests would not be made until Regina was presented as alive back into society. Her press conference would air, and immediately following, Gold, Leopold, and her mother would all be arrested. 

Standing in City Hall, her hands trembled and she stared forward at the man she’d grown closest to since her return. “I can’t- Robin, they’ll kill me. The second I go back up there, my whole life gets thrown back into my face. Everyone will know what they did to me, how they treated me. They’ll know my son was fathered by one of those awful people, and he’ll know that. I can’t do that to him, I can’t.” Her head started to shake, and he reached out to snake his arms around her and pull her into a hug. 

“You’ll be great” he whispers into her hair. He lets her go and puts his hands on her shoulders, grounding her. 

“Listen to me Regina. You are without a doubt, the bravest, strongest person I know. You survived more in the past four years than most people will in a lifetime, and telling people your story won’t change that. There are always going to be people around that will make you hurt. They say hurtful things, and they’ll try and turn this into something it wasn’t. But those people that hurt you, they deserve to pay. Leopold Blanchard, Gold… They don’t deserve to live their lives of luxury. They deserve to rot for everything you have done to you. 

And your mother, Regina. I know you’re worried because she’s still your Mum, but people need to know. No one should get away with what happened to you. You and Henry deserve the world, and you deserve to be happy. You don’t have to go out there. No one is going to make you. But me, your sister- we want you to be free of all of this. We want you and Henry to have the life you deserve. And if your mother or any of those other fucks a’re free, you’re never going to have that life because you’ll always be looking over your shoulder.”

He lifts his hand to wipe the tears pouring down her face. 

“I’ve built so much since i’ve been home” she whispers. Her hand comes up to hold his hand to her cheek, and her fingers wrap tightly around his. “I don’t want it to change. I don’t want  _ this  _ to change. You’re the first person that every truly cared about me and my son. Once I go out there, all of this changes. People will look into my life, and they’ll know all of the horrible things that have happened to me and my baby.” 

She squeezes his hand as his thumb brushes away the tear that falls down her cheek. 

“I think- I don’t know how to  _ not _ love you. I don’t want to lose you.” 

“Regina” he whispers, pressing his lips to her forehead. “Regardless of what happens, if you even go out there, nothing will change the fact that I don’t know how to  _ not _ love you either. From the second you and your incredible son walked into my office, you two made me realize that through all the evil in this world, you can find hope, even in the smallest moments. This is just another small moment in your big picture. Once you’re past this, you can finally move forward.” 

She leans in and grazes her lips against the stubble of his cheek. Her eyes fall closed as she inhales his warmth. “Come with me.” 

“I’ll be there, every step of the way” he nods. 

Moments later they step onto the stage. Regina glances over her shoulder at Robin holding Henry; who clutches the stuffed elephant that Robin gifted him after his first therapy session, and Zelena, and she smiles. 

With a deep breath she turns to the hundreds of cameras, flashing lights and microphones pointed toward her. 

“For the past four years, I was held captive by the leaders of this town. My son and I were lucky to escape, however, those who tormented us need to be brought to justice. 

My name is Regina Mills, and this is my story.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Day 1915

There’s pressure- so much fucking pressure.

Flashing lights blind her as she tightly grips the edges of the podium, her breaths getting faster with each yell of her name. Her heart pounds and the shouting begins to grow louder and louder. Her eyes focus down on her hands trembling, twitching with each call of, “Miss Mills,” echoing through her ears. 

“I- if you could all just slow-”

More screaming. They don’t get it, the level of intimidation they’re pressing on her chest, and why aren’t these cops doing anything about this? Just letting them bark questions at her, like the trauma of being kidnapped for 5 years wasn’t enough shit to go through without them screaming at her. 

Her hands are shaking uncontrollably now, and her will to answer anything has disappeared along with her ability to move. She senses him though, Robin staring at her from the sidelines. Robin, with his beautiful heart and caring soul. She feels his arm wrap around her waist, feels him slowly reaching up to pry her hands off of the edge of the podium. Her white-knuckle grip slowly fades back to its original tan as her breathing grows more frantic. 

His arms though, his arms squeeze her gently and pull her in toward his chest, all while her chest heaves and she tries to catch her breath. 

“Breathe, Regina.” 

Her eyes are still frantically scanning the room, breaths quickening toward hyperventilating, until his smooth hand cradles her cheek. He guides her, cautiously, to look at him. 

His gorgeous face fills her frame and she finally feels air deep within her lungs. 

“Hey there” he whispers, low, so only she can hear. Somewhere in the background she vaguely hears Zelena scoulding the reporters, but her focus shifts back to him. 

“That’s it, love, stick with my voice. I’ve got you, Regina. You’re safe.” 

“Henry,” she whispers. She loathes to know if her son saw her panic attack, fears that he saw her break along with the rest of the world. 

“Hey, no, back with me Regina. Don’t go back into your head. Henry’s fine. He and Archie went to find a snack machine.” 

Her eyes well with tears as she finally feels the panic dissipate from her chest. She meets his gaze and thanks the heavens that he isn’t looking at her like she’ll snap; that through all her anxiety he still looks at her like she’s strong and brave. 

“Robin I’m-”

“Don’t, Regina. You’ve nothing to apologize for. I’m more worried about you. Are you okay?”

She nods, but he hesitates to believe her. Her hands are still trembling against his forearms where she hangs on, her nails digging into his skin. “I- I want my son.”

“Okay, yes. Let’s go find Henry?” 

He starts to walk but her grip tightens so he waits, slowly lifting a free hand to pry her fingers from his skin, his fingers carefully tangling with hers. He cradles her soft hand in his, squeezing lightly. 

Her eyes stay focused on his face, mapping out the lines as he smiles at her- grounds her. 

“Come on, love. Let’s go hug your son.”

He leads her into city hall, heads down as they pass unaware reporters and town officials. He can hear them all talking, gossiping about her panic attack. 

_ “You’d think they would have prepared her better for this-” _

_ “What kind of trauma could she have gone through? She looks fine to me-” _

_ “She must be in on Cora’s publicity stunt. That was a little much.” _

He hates them. Truly wishes he could just turn around and hit them all, tell them how fucking rude they are, how  _ wrong _ they all are. He wishes they’d all realize how this beautiful soul, this incredibly strong woman is more resilient than they could ever be. 

He turns to her, notices how she flinches at their words- see’s the grief spread across her face as quick as it disappears. 

They slip into the lounge and come upon Henry and Archie. 

“Mama!” Henry squeals, hopping off of the couch and into her open arms to squeeze her into a tight hug. “Mama, Archie let me eat so many gummy worms.” 

There are tears slipping down her face as she clutches her son to her chest, her face pressed into his hair. “He did now,” she whispers, combing through his thick locks to smooth them away from his face. “Well we have to thank Mr. Archie for that, now don’t we.”

Her son nods, the excitement of gummy worms and sugar coursing through him as he turns back to Archie with a quick  _ thank you _ . When he turns back to her, though, Henry sees the tears welling in her eyes. His little palm comes up to pat her cheek. “Mama don’t cry. Do you want a worm too? They make me happy.” He runs back to his bag, running back seconds later with a blue and green worm. 

“This one is my favorite” he says, carefully setting the gummy worm into her open palm. 

Her heart swells at her beautiful innocent son, so unaware of the hell facing them when they leave the room. Archie excuses himself, not without telling Robin he’ll call her to make another appointment. 

She kneels before her son, listening to his excited whispers of their trip to the park later. 

_ It’ll be alright, _ she repeats in her head. 

Maybe if she says it enough, it’ll be true. 

Day 2063

Robin walks out of the bathroom, towel slung low across his waist, droplets of water dripping from his hair down his chest. He watches carefully as she flips through her closet, mumbling to herself and throwing another dress down into the growing pile on the floor next to her. 

“Regina, babe what’s wrong?”

She turns to him with tears welling in her eyes, pressing a black dress to her underwear-clad body. “Robin, I can’t do this.” 

Today was her first day at work since she’d returned home. Zelena has gotten her a job with her at a charity foundation, helping plan fundraisers. 

She wasn’t looking forward to it- dreaded the moment she had to take her son to school and leave him with strangers just to go to a job she didn't ask for. 

Archie had suggested it first, but she brushed it off, told him she wasn’t ready to let her son out of her sight for any extended period of time. But then they’d been at the park one day and Henry had made a friend, a little girl named Violet. They played for hours, childish giggles escaping their lips as they played tag and jumped around the jungle gym. 

On the way home Henry asked what school was, and it stopped her. 

_ “What’d you ask?”  _

_ Henry stood, his little hand tucked safely into hers, staring up at her. “School! My new friend Violet asked what school I go to and I didn’t know what it was. But she said they sing songs and read books and color! I want to color Mama, I’m such a good colorer. Can I go to school with Violet?”  _

_ Her heart feels like it’s plummeting in her chest, all of her fears bubbling through her blood. She wants to cry, to hold her baby to her chest and keep in the safe protective bubble that is their home. But she can’t- she knows that it’s more selfish to keep her son from socialization that he’s already behind on. But her heart yearns to keep him safe.  _

_ “I- Maybe we’ll see what we can do about that.” _

She surges herself into his arms, face pressed against his shoulder as he tightens a hug around her. He smells like pinewood, though the vague smell of her shampoo comes through, and it makes her smile just a bit. “I can’t keep him safe there,” she murmurs into his warm chest. 

“You’re the bravest person I know Regina Mills. I know that you can do this. You know you can too, it’s just tough. But tough is okay, because you won’t be alone. You have me and your sister every step of the way.” Robin’s arms come up to hold her tight against his chest, his hands slowly trailing over her back. “He’ll be safe at school. He’ll go for half a day, make some friends, eat a snack, and before you know it you can go pick him up.”

_ “But it’s terrifying,” _ her words muffle against his shoulder. 

He reaches a hand up and carefully cups her cheek, pulling her back so she’s looking up at him with her gorgeous brown eyes. He leans in and captures her lips in a kiss, his arm around her waist tightening as she melts into him. Her lips part as she carefully kisses him, a free hand coming up to tangle in his hair. 

When he finally pulls away she groans as the loss and presses a final kiss to his jaw. 

“Henry’s still asleep… We can play hookie, let him sleep in and have a little fun” she whispers, tracing her fingers down his bare chest. 

He collects her hand in his and presses a soft kiss to her palm. “I promise you, love. He’ll be great.  _ You’ll  _ be great. And while the thought of being naked in bed does sound wonderful…” he kisses her palm once more and cradles her hand to his chest, “neither of you should be late on your first day.” 

Day 1843

“Mama, we gonna go?” 

“In a minute, baby. Just give Mommy a minute.” 

She’s stuck staring, eyes cast up toward the  _ Dr. Archie Hopper, PhD  _ sign hanging above their heads. 

Robin had already went into the office, she could see him talking with a young brunette behind a receptionist desk. She knew, ultimately, that they had to go in. Her sons countless nightmares were more important than her fear of being found by those who had taken her life from her. 

They need to go in. 

She doesn’t want to go in. 

But then Henry starts excitedly tugging on her hand, whispering,  _ Robin’s coming Mama, _ in a way that is only quiet for an almost four year old. 

When he opens the door and asks if she’s ready, she does nothing but stare blankly toward him. 

“Regina, if you don’t want to come in you don’t need to. But if it’s okay with you, I’ll take Henry inside so Belle can ask him a few questions.” 

“Questions?” 

“Just basic things, how old he is, what his favorite color is. She’ll let him draw for a little, so he’s comfortable, and then Archie will take him. You can be in the room, if you’d like. They also have this adjacent room you can watch from, in case Henry’s hesitant to talk with you in the room.” 

She glances down at her beautiful son who is bouncing on his toes, watching his new shoes light up as his heels tap against the ground. 

“Henry, baby why don’t you go in and color while I talk with Robin.” 

He peeks around Robin toward the brunette- Belle, he’d called her, who was waiting patiently with a coloring book and some crayons. “Mama are you coming too?” 

“In a moment. I’ll be right here while you go in though.” 

He’s hesitant, she can tell, but he nods and makes his way inside. She watches through the window as Robin introduces him to the woman, Belle. Her son curls himself into Robin’s leg and her heart breaks that she’s not able- not strong enough to just walk into the office and curl her arms around him, giving him the comfort a mother should be able to give her son. 

She’s a fucking  _ coward _ , and she hates herself for it. 

She can feel her heart growing heavier, the unnerving panic growing through her soul and moving up toward her brain, when she feels his hands wrap gently around hers. 

“Regina, you okay?” 

Her eyes are watering, blinking til the tears drip down to her cheeks. “I can’t help him,” she shudders. “He’s in there all alone and I can’t even walk through the fucking door.” Her voice cracks and the tears start to stream now, her hands shaking in his. “He deserves a mother that can help him.”

“He has a mother that is helping him,” Robin whispers. “Even if you can’t go in there, Regina, you’re helping him more than you realize. He’s safe, and happy-

“He has nightmares and he needs therapy because I-”

“You did nothing to him Regina. You gave him the love, happiness, and warmth that he needed to grow into the amazing little boy he is.  _ You _ are an incredible mom. Whatever else is going on with Henry, your goal is to help him. You got out of that hell hole, you found my office that morning,  _ you _ are the one who called me the other night asking to set this appointment up. Regardless of what has happened, you have always done the best for your son.”

She listens to him, tries to push down the heartache with a nod and a deep breath. 

“I- I want to go in.” 

He squeezes her hand and walks with her through the threshold. When they go in, Henry’s infectious giggle can be heard through a closed door and she sighs with relief. 

Robin leads her into a room with a mirror where she sees her son, sitting on a plush brown couch with a stuffed elephant tucked into his arms. He looks so small on the couch, his little body sunk into the cushions, feet tapping against the edge of the couch. He’s telling the doctor, Archie, about he and Robin’s trip to the playground that they took the other day. Their conversations stay lighthearted and fun until Archie asks Henry about how he feels now that they aren’t in the cabin anymore. 

She watches her son carefully, can see the gears working as he contemplates what to say to the doctor sitting across from him. She’s holding her breath, doesn’t realize it until Henry opens his mouth, and she lets out a sob. 

“I’m glad my Mama is happy. Those men were scary and they made her scared. Sometimes, when Mama thought I was asleep, I could hear her crying. I wanted to hug her but she looked sad, and her hugs help me when I’m sad, but I was scared. The men would try and hurt her, they’d hit her and they’d take her for so long. I would cry, and I could hear Mama cry but I was so scared, so I would hide with my block. When she came back she would always want to snuggle. She’d hold me real tight and squeeze me and give me  _ so _ many kisses.”

“Is that what you have the scary dreams about?”

Henry nods, his gaze cast down, fingers absentmindedly playing with the big ears on the elephant. 

“I keep dreaming that the scary men come back and take me from Aunt Zelena’s house. The man with the cane, he comes in and hits Mama with it, and she starts crying, but the other man, the tall man, he comes in and takes me. And Robin’s not there, and Aunt Zelena’s not there, it’s just me and Mama. Mama tries to save me, but the mean man just keeps hitting her with his stick and laughing at her. I always cry because it’s scary, but that’s when Mama comes in and wakes me up. Mama and Robin keep telling me that the scary men are gone, that we’re safe, but…” he trails off, his little arms coming to tighten around the elephant in his lap. 

“What is it, Henry?” 

“W-what if they come back?” The tears start to well in his eyes, his little voice trembling as he continues. “What if they take my Mama? What if they  _ kill _ her? I heard Mama and Aunt Zelena talking- I- I know I wasn’t supposed to be up but I wanted some milk, and they were talking about how Mama was so happy they didn’t kill her. I- I don’t want my Mama to go anywhere.” 

She’s presses herself against Robin’s chest as she listens to her son recall all of his fears, his nightmare, his  _ memories _ . Her body is shaking, sobs wracking her form when his arms tighten around her. 

Day 1930

Robin’s hand hovers over the door. He should knock. He  _ needs  _ to knock. It’s simple, he’s done it before. This isn’t the first time he’s stood outside Zelena’s house to come get her. 

But this is the first time he’s picking her up for a date. 

He’d finally gained the courage to ask her one night when he’d met her and Henry at Granny’s for dinner. It was only a few days after her panic attack at the press conference, and the last thing he’d expected was for her to want to go out, but Archie had insisted that it may be good if they go somewhere familiar, somewhere where she already feel safe. 

_ They’d settled into the booth and Henry had climbed into her lap, was patiently coloring a polar bear on the sheet Granny had given him, when the question slipped from Robin’s mouth.  _

_ “Would you like to have dinner with me next week?” _

_ She doesn’t look up, makes a joke about how they’re already at dinner while she uses her son’s blue crayon to color in a cloud.  _

_ He stares at her though, and after a brief silence she looks up at him, shock etched across her face.  _

_ “You- you mean like a real dinner?” _

_ “That was the thought.” _

And now he’s ended up here outside her door, holding a bouquet of flowers and hesitating to knock. When he finally does rap his hand against the door, the first thing he hears in Henry’s loud, “I got it!” coming through the wood. Regina scolds him, warns that he’s not supposed to answer the door without her or Zelena, and he hears a sweet apology before the door finally opens. 

She’s brilliant, radiant, and utterly gorgeous. She’s wearing a flowy floral dress, black speckled with little flowers that flow out into a burst of color at the sleeves. There’s a thin belt wrapped around her waist, and as his eyes travel up he see’s the black of her bra standing out beneath the dress. 

Fuck. 

Henry jumps into his arms, chatting away about their trip to the store that morning, but his eyes don’t leave her. 

She’s blushing, a tint of red spreading up her neck and too her cheeks. He pays her son the attention he deserves, but his unwavering eyes make her heart flutter. 

She loves this man. 

He’s been nothing but incredible to her, to her son, since they’ve been home. His heart and devotion to her pours out in gestures she never thought could be so meaningful, simple things like opening the door and a quick  _ good morning _ text to brighten her day. Things she’d taken for granted for so long, only to have them all stripped away at the hands of monsters, given back to her in an overwhelming manner by this wonderful man. 

Robin passes Henry into Zelena’s arms and reaches out, taking Regina’s hand into his. 

She bids her son a goodbye, presses a sweet kiss to his cheek, tells him to be good. She follows behind Robin as they walk toward his truck, looking back once to her son giving her a little wave. 

They drive to a new place in town, a warm little restaurant called ‘Tiana’s Place’. He takes her inside and they order two glasses of wine and dinner, when it finally hits her. 

She’s nervous. 

She shouldn’t be, though, knows that nothing has changed in the 147 days she’s known him. He’s supported her through more than she’d ever expected, stayed by her side through her few highs and oh-so-many lows. But what if they have nothing to talk about? What if he gets her alone for a minute and realizes how broken she is? 

What if he realizes through the past few years she’s been seen as nothing more than an object, a play thing used up and tossed aside? 

Her anxiety flares through her, her hands starting to shake until she looks up and sees him smiling at her. 

His hand comes up to caress at hers across the table, thumb drawing slow circles against the pressure point between her thumb and pointer finger. 

“I-” she hesitates. “I’m nervous.”

He chuckles, his eyes crinkling in a way that makes her want to take his face into her hands and run her thumbs over his cheeks. “I am too, Regina. Trust me.” 

“You? You’ve nothing to be nervous for. You’re-”

“Out to dinner with an incredible woman, on the first date I’ve even been on in years, and so dumbfounded by how stunning you are that I can’t form a coherent sentence?” 

She giggles, feels the blush rise, warming her cheeks. “You’re too kind,” she whispers. 

“I mean every word of it Regina. You’ve nothing to be nervous about. Let’s just… see where this goes, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

The night turns after that, drifts from awkward glances and sweaty palms to uninhibited laughter and gentle touches across the table. They finish off a bottle of wine between the two of them, deciding ultimately that taking his car isn’t worth the risk. He slips his jacket over her shoulders and they walk, hand in hand back toward her sisters house. She doesn’t want their night to end though, doesn’t want the magic to fade, so she tugs his hand and pull him toward the direction of his cabin. 

He invites her inside for a coffee, promising his intentions are pure, he just can’t bear the thought of her going after all this. They laugh their way into his kitchen and she kicks her heels off, pads her way around the room to put on a pot of coffee. When she turns he’s there watching her, again, with a look of adoration that makes her flutter. 

It’s the first time she kisses him. 

She stretches onto the tips of her toes, drapes a hand over his shoulder and locks her lips to his in a warm kiss. It’s chaste and soft, his hand lifting to a careful hold on her hip, fingertips pressing into her spine. She presses a little harder against him, other hand coming up to cradle his cheek as she parts her lips for him. 

He drinks her in, other arm coming around to run down her side. He’s afraid to move his hands, doesn’t want to push any further than he already is, and she’s grateful that he’s everso the gentleman she knew he was. 

When they part he presses his forehead to hers, eyes closed as they catch their breath. 

“Wow,” he sighs, squeezing her hip once. 

“Yeah,” she laughs, a bright smile swept across her face. 

Day 550

_ Dear Henry,  _

_ You’re 10 days old today.  _

_ I- I don’t know how to begin this. I think I should start by telling you I’m sorry. I’m so, so incredibly sorry.  _

_ I’m sorry that i’ve brought you into this world. No, no not that. I love you. You’re without a doubt the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. But i’m so sorry that you’re in the world this way.  _

_ I hope you never have to read this letter. I hope it burns, along with this god-forsaken cabin we’re trapped in. _

_ I want to give you a life you deserve, and trust me my love, you deserve the world.  _

_ This isn’t a place for a little boy to grow up.  _

_ I promise i’m trying to get us out of here. I don’t know how, or when, but one day you and I are going to be free of all of this. We’ll live in a beautiful white house, with a gorgeous apple tree in the backyard, and you’ll have a swingset and all the toys you can imagine.  _

_ It’ll be me and you against the world kid.  _

_ I can’t wait. _

_ I love you more than you’ll ever know, my little prince.  _

Day 1870

“I can’t stop counting the days.”

“What do you mean?” 

She exhales and sinks into the worn brown couch in the therapy office, tracing the pattern on her pants with the tip of her finger. 

“When I was locked in the cabin, I kept a tally of how many days I’d been there. I don’t know why I started, honestly. But on the first day I found this little piece of chalk, and I just started… marking. One tally per day, and a slash for 5. After 10, I would write the number, and after 100 I would start a new row. I- I honestly didn’t think I’d be there that long but it became this constant that I just couldn’t stop. Every morning when I’d wake, I’d draw my line. I was in that room for 1783 days. 17 full rows of slash marks scratched into the wall. 

I think the worst part of it was that though I was making the marks, deliberately drawing them, painstakingly pressing the chalk into the wood, it felt like they were mocking me. 

Each milestone I marked was more painful than the last. I didn’t expect for this to happen this way… I thought that I’d only be in for a few months, and then the days just started ticking by. I lost hope around day 100, and then all of a sudden it was 150, and then 200, and before I knew it they’d sold me to Gold and Leopold without so much as a blink. 

But the worst part- well not the worst, because this whole thing is just awful… I keep counting. Henry and I got out on day 1783, and today it’s day 1870. The first day out I found this little notebook in Robin’s desk and I wrote a single line in the top left corner of the pad. I tried not to, truly tried, but I couldn’t help it. 

It’s like being free from all of that… It just doesn’t feel real.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Sexual Assault, Body Self Deprecation, Violence

Day 2001

“Make a wish, my sweet prince.”

Henry leans forward, an excited glimmer in his eyes as he eyes his cake. “What do I do Mama?” 

“Close your eyes and blow out your candles, and when you do you make a wish. But keep it safe, in your head, so that way it can come true.”

He’s practically shaking with excitement, his little body trembling as he leans in and squeezes his eyes shut and fills his cheeks with air. He blows, hard, and as the flame goes out she, Robin, and Zelena clap with excitement. His eyes open and the awe spreading across his face makes her heart swell. 

“I did it Mama!” Henry claps along with them before throwing his arms around his mother in a big hug. She scoops him up and squeezes him tightly, peppering kisses to his cheeks. 

“Happy Birthday Henry,” she whispers, hugging him tightly once more. When she sets him back in his chair he turns to Robin and Zelena, carefully counting out four fingers on his right hand, holding it high up in the air. 

“I’m this many, now Aunt Zelena!” 

“You are,” she smiles, lifting him into a hug. She leans in, quietly whispering with him about a present for him in the backyard. 

His eyes widen and he spins in Zelena’s arms, looking toward his mom. “Mama can I go, please? I want to see.” 

“Of course baby,” she nods. 

Henry wiggles himself out of Zelena’s arms and wraps his little fingers around her palm, tugging her toward the back porch. Regina can hear his excited gasp and squeal as he sees his aunt’s gift, a large swing set built up in their backyard. 

Robin slips behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist with a light squeeze. They walk together toward the window, watching as Henry pulls Zelena toward the swing, patiently waiting for her to sit down because he wants to push her.

“Thank you.”

“For what, love?” Robin asks.

“For believing in me, and for giving him this. We love you, Robin, more than you know.” She tilts her head back, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. 

He squeezes his arms around her and buries his face into her shoulder. “I love you too, Regina.” 

Day 365

She’s been locked away for a full year now. 

365 long, painful days. 

There’s a part of her that cannot fathom what it’s like to look at her, to look inside a room at a young woman trapped, in both the physical and mental sense. Her mother’s scheme to become more politically popular was something that she never wanted to be a part of. Even as a child her father taught her and Zelena to just  _ ‘let mother be,’ _ to let her drag them around as show people while her father taught them how to be true. 

He was a good, decent man taken far too soon, from circumstances that she still questioned. 

That’s been on her mind too. Kept her up at night while she twirled the lone piece of chalk she’d found. Her father’s death was sudden and heartbreaking. Her mother had feigned innocence, swore that their trip west had been nothing more than a getaway from all of the stresses of politics. But then there’d been a lone phone call, one single, “I’m sorry for your loss,” and her whole world had crumbled. 

They said it had been a heart attack, but she wasn’t so sure. 

Trapped in this hell she’d felt herself becoming a prisoner in her own mind. A bit nauseous too. 

Her stomach was growing, and the fears she’d been trying to push down were becoming more and more apparent everyday. 

Pregnant. 

Pregnant from being held against her will and assaulted until she passes out. Over, and over, and over. 

Her mind is becoming an incredibly dark place. She hasn’t slept in days, knows very well that sooner or later she will pass out from exhaustion. But everytime she’s slept her mind started racing, her body convulsing with nightmares and horrifying instances of fright and regret. 

What could she have done better? How could she have been a better daughter? 

What did she do wrong?

Day 1883

She wakes with a little foot pressed into her side, pajama clad toes digging between her ribs as her little boy stretches in his sleep. She loves him dearly, her little prince. Even when he’s pressing a palm to her cheek and kicking her in his sleep. 

He’s been in her bed more and more each night, sneaking into her room into the middle of the night and crawling up into her bed with his blanket. 

Her hand stretches out to turn off her alarm before it goes off, and her eyes fall upon the date at the bottom of the clock. 

100 days free. 

Henry rolls over and throws an arm over her neck, palm smacking against her cheek. It pulls her from her trance, from watching the seconds tick by like the days she so wants to forget. 

Her arms wrap around him, pulling her son in to a tight hug to pepper kisses to his cheeks. “Wake up, my little love,” she whispers, tickling his side. 

“No, Mama, it’s time to sleep.” He buries his face into her chest, little fists grasping at the straps of her tank top. “The sun’s not awake yet.”

“It is,” she laughs, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Hey, do you want to go see Robin today?” 

“Robin!” He lights up, sitting up with a shove against her chest. “Mama, Robin told me that we can get popsicles.” 

She wraps her arms around him and sits up in the bed, tucking her son into her lap. His head drops to her shoulder, blanket tucked between them, and her hand rubs over his back. “I don’t see why we couldn’t have popsicles.” 

“Good,” he yawns. 

They stay like that for a while, shifting between awake and asleep, breaths evening out toward the lull of sleep. 

She wakes again twenty minutes later, her son now fast asleep against her chest, a little snore escaping from him. She shifts him carefully, lies him back down onto the mattress and tucks his blanket around him. 

Slipping from the bed, she pulls her robe off of the back of the chair and wraps it around herself, padding toward the bathroom. Her hands card through her hair and she pulls it up into a bun, rinsing her face with her wash and brushing her teeth. 

After her simple routine she hears her phone buzz, sees Robin’s name pop up at the top of the screen. She swipes the screen and hits the speakerphone button. 

“Hey there.” 

“Good morning Regina.” 

She can hear the smile in his voice, and her heart warms. “Henry and I were going to come see you around 11, if that’s okay? He said something about being promised a popsicle.” 

“Ah yes,” he laughs, and she can hear the rustling of something shifting behind him. “He asked me the other day if he was good at his check up, if he could have one, so of course I said yes. How can you say no to that kid? He’s adorable.”

She chuckles, lifts her mascara to start putting it on. “He’s something. He’s been sneaking into my bed at night more and more lately. It’s not something I want him to grow into habit, but I think he’s still getting accustomed to being at Zelena’s.” 

“Do you think the therapy’s helping?” 

“Yes” she nods, switching to the other eye. “He’s been better lately, his nightmares aren’t as bad. He sleeps like a pack of wolves, though. I swear, I’m going to be covered in bruises before the end of all of this.” She starts applying blush when she hears another shift through the phone. “What are you doing?” 

He lets out an  _ oof _ and then she hears him again, “I’m trying to get these boxes shifted around in my house but they’re heavy and kind of kicking my ass.” 

She laughs at that, finishing up with her lipstick. “I’m sure you’re strong enough. Why do you have boxes anyhow?” 

“I was trying to get my apartment sold and so I had packed up everything, but then some things happened and I realized that I didn’t want to move, or need to move, so now I’m trying to get all of these boxes back where they belong.” 

“You were moving?”

“I was,” he pauses, she hears another grunt and the sound of a box dropping, “about three months ago I thought about going somewhere new. This place didn’t feel right anymore, but then-”

“But then I found you.” 

He sighs, “Yeah. When you came along I realized that there was a purpose of being here. You, and Henry. And now I…” he trails, “I don’t want to leave now.” 

“Oh,” she lets out, her hand stilling against her face. “You know, this time 100 days ago I was walking in your office.”

“That you were,” he laughs. “And I’m so grateful that you did.” 

Day 1914

She’d been dozing in and out on the couch while Henry sat, curled in her lap, eyes glued to the movie he’s been watching for the past few days. Since their time at Zelena’s he’s grown to love the television, entranced by the neverending stories he has access to. 

For her though, the past few months have been rough, and with her upcoming press conference looming overhead, and she’s yet to sleep more than three hours a night. She’d been trying to help Zelena with lunch, insisting that she wasn’t an invalid, but her sister refused and sent her to the couch to nap while she made them all soup. 

Henry’s fingers pat carefully against her cheek, and behind her she can hear a sharp banging. “Mama, the door.” 

“What?” she asks, wrapping an arm protectively around him. 

“There’s someone at the door Mama.”

She starts to sit up, shifting Henry off of her lap, when she hears Zelena’s yell of, “I got it!” and then a woosh of the door opening. She starts to settle back down when she hears her sisters distress. 

“No- no, absolutely not, you need to go.” 

There’s a muffled response, a simple. “Oh please, Zelena, don’t be ridiculous,” that makes her heart stop. 

Cora. 

Her body is shaking, sheer panic ripping its way through her that has her wanting to flee and fight. Her first instinct, though, is to protect her son. 

“Henry, Henry you need to go hide.” 

“But- but Mama the beast is about to get a bath! This is the funny part.” 

She shakes her head, tears collecting in her eyes as she tries to shuffle her son away, back toward the office, the only path that doesn’t have a direct line of sight to the front door. She can hear them arguing, can hear her mother’s passive aggressive comments about Zelena’s weight and her inconsideration for her feelings by not letting her in, and Regina can feel her heart tightening in fear with every word that slips from their mother’s mouth. 

Cora doesn’t know she’s back, doesn’t know of her harrowing escape or the time she’s spent hiding out in Zelena’s house, working with police officers and detectives to try and get the justice she and her son deserve. She doesn’t even know her own grandson exists. 

“Mother, I told you that you’re not welcome here. Not after everything that you’ve done, everything you put our family through. You need to go, now.”

She gets Henry into the office with promise that she’s okay, that Zelena is okay, but that it’s important that he stay quiet and they can go to the park later, after they finish the movie. He’s giving her that look, one that she’d seen far too often in the cabin, but he nods and promises he’ll stay quiet, that he’s  _ ‘good at staying quiet’ _ . 

At the close of the office door she hears a cry, “No, don’t!” and the sharp click of heels against hardwood. 

Her heart is pounding, pain spreading through her chest and breaths quickening with each step. The closer Cora comes the more her hands start to shake, the more her knees begin to tremble. Her mother keeps stopping, criticizing Zelena on her choices of decor and lack of respect for her mother, and Regina knows it’s coming. She could hide, could slip unnoticed into the office with Henry and hold her baby tight, but her therapist told her she shouldn’t hide if she feels ready to face her fears. And Cora is, without a doubt, her biggest fear. 

If she keeps hiding, she’s never going to get better. And she so desperately wants to be better. 

The clicking stops and Regina opens her eyes, lifts her head to meet her mother’s. 

“Regina?” 

“Hello, Cora.” 

“You’re alive?”

“Oh, cut the bullshit mother. Like you don’t know all of the terrible things that have happened to me since you sent me away.” Regina can feel her voice trembling, matching the shaking that hasn’t stopped in her hands, but she stands tall and looks her mother in the eye. “You probably knew that I was back, didn’t you?”

“To be honest, Regina, I truly thought you were dead. Not when we ‘killed you’,” she says, eyeing her once over before stepping closer, “but I had thought that the gents would have done you in far sooner than anticipated.”

“How could you,” Regina chokes out, backing up toward the door. “You sold me like a lamb to the slaughter! You let those men  _ own me _ . They did horrible, painful things to me and where were you? Off playing senator behind your big fucking desk, like you hadn’t sold off your child? I was your  _ child _ , hell, I was still a child when you sold me! You had years of my life taken from me. Graduation, college, a young love, my virginity, my freedom… My soul was stripped away every single day. All so you could get a goddamn sympathy vote!” 

She’s screaming now, her face reddened with anger and frustration and hurt. The tears are falling but she can’t stop them, doesn’t want to stop them. Her mother deserves to know every awful, damned thing that happened by the dealings of her own hand. 

“Regina after Nottingham said he’d taken care of things I-”

“No! You don’t get to talk. You stripped away every ounce of decency I had and left me to die, and I hate you for it. Nothing good came of any of this. The only,  _ only _ , thing out of all of this that I have to be proud of is-”

“Mama?”

She freezes, her entire body shaking when she turns to Henry, who peeks his head out from the office. He’s been crying, she can tell from the redness around his eyes and the tremble of his bottom lip, and she holds back a sob. She drops to her knees, collects him into her arms and whispers a soft “I’m sorry” into his ear. He’s rarely ever heard her yell, only the few times when she tried to fight back, but never that much. 

She stays kneeling for a moment, collecting herself in a vain attempt to get her heart rate down. Deep breaths, in and out, slow and meticulous. When she’s ready she stands tall and proud against the woman who started it all, with her son in her arms. She can see the shock written across her mother’s face, and she swears there’s the slightest hint of guilt flashed in Cora’s eyes. 

“This is my son, Henry. And I think we’d both like it if you get the hell out.” 

Day 1955

Their lips are pressed to one another’s, kissing slowly, passionately. Her arms stay wrapped around his neck, body pressed against his as she backs him slowly to the couch. His hands haven’t left her waist, but his fingertips have been slowly pushing up the edge of her shirt, hands tightening their grip only slightly as she pushes him down onto the couch, climbs over him to straddle his lap. 

Her thighs settle atop his, their bodies molded together perfectly as she keeps kissing him, slowly, savoring every second like it’ll be her last. 

His hands have moved their way up her back now, rough pads of his fingers caressing over her skin. They’re both nervous, she can tell from the hesitation, but she pushes hers down and presses her body closer to his, deepening the kiss.

Her hips swirl against his the growing bulge in his jeans, hands moving into his hair to angle him into a deeper kiss. She needs to come up for air, sooner or later, but if she breaks the kiss he’ll ask her if she’s okay with this, and she doesn’t want him to ask. Doesn’t want to question her actions or insecurities. She just wants to kiss him. 

When he finally breaks the kiss for air she immediately shifts her kisses to his neck, nipping across his jaw and down, tongue swirling over a spot at his collarbone that has his arms tightening around her and a groan slipping from his lips. 

“Regina, I-”

“No,” she whispers. “Please don’t ask. Please, just kiss me.”

He eyes her for a moment but when he leans back in and kisses her, it’s harder now. His hands have slid from her back down, tucking under the waistband of her jeans, grazing against the edge of her ass. His kiss is sharper, more hungry, and she feeds into it, grinds herself down with a harsh jut of her hips. 

She can feel herself growing wetter, the need for friction between her legs growing more and more. She tries to chase that high and when his hands grip her ass and pull her fully flush against him, she cries out. The delicious feeling of his growing erection is against her, making her gasp and buck her hips harder against him. 

She’s going to come, and they aren’t even naked yet. 

He shifts her body, straddles her over his thigh and whispers for her to use him how she needs, to take what she wants. And oh, she does. 

She dives back in for another kiss, lets him swallow her moans and cries as she gets herself off against his leg. 

With a jut of her hips she breaks the kiss and her back arches, hands gripping his shoulders as she lets out a short cry and her body stills. 

She wakes with a start, shooting up in her bed to stare out at her darkened room. Her chest is heaving, hands gripped against the sheets as she tries, desperately, to catch her breath. There’s a slick feeling between her thighs, one that she hasn’t felt in so long, hadn’t imagined would ever come again. Her eyes slowly adjust and she pries her fingers from her bed, reaching up to run a hand through her hair. 

“Well, shit.” 

Day 1203

“Heny, please, just calm down.”

He’s been crying for hours now, heartbroken over something that she cannot understand, something that he hasn’t been able to voice. But he’s crying, she knows that much, and while it’s making her heart hurt she’s also starting to get frustrated. 

“No, no, no! I don’t like!” he cries. “Mama can’t go!”

“Honey, Henry, I’m not going anywhere. I don’t know where this is coming from. I’m right here. See, love, right here. Why don’t you let me,” she reaches out, tries to pull him into a hug but he backs away from her like he’s afraid. Like he’s afraid of  _ her _ . 

“You always go!” He sobs out, fat crocodile tears pouring down his face. “Scary man come in and then you  _ go _ and I-” he hiccups, “all alone.” More tears, choking sobs wracking her baby’s frame and she’s going to cry right along with him. She’s done this to him, made him this heartbreakingly sad, it’s all her fault. 

The tears are welling in her eyes as she stretches out to him, hand open to welcome her son into her arms. “Oh, no Henry, baby I’m so sorry. I know that I always go, but I’ll always come back to you. I promise, love. Henry, please come here,” her voice cracks. She scoots closer to him and can see the hesitation in his eyes, but he scrambles across the room and throws himself into her arms. 

She wraps him up into a tight hug, pressing kisses over the top of his head and his cheeks, whispering apologies to him over and over. 

He’s still crying but it’s starting to slow, his gasps evening out into deep, steady breaths. 

She can’t let go of him, can’t stop whispering her love for him, her apologies for being such an awful parent, but a sharp crack of the door smacking against the frame rattles her. 

“Well, what have we here,” Leopold snarls, stepping into the room. Henry’s tears start again and she protectively tucks him against her chest. The glare she’s giving Leopold could kill him in one snap.

“Get the fuck out of here,” she growls, but he keeps moving closer to her, a wicked smile spread across his face. 

“Drop your son, Regina, or he’s going to get just a hurt as you are.”

Her resolve breaks quickly and she starts shaking her head, “No, no leave him alone. Please, you can see how upset he is. You could  _ hear _ how upset he is. Just, leave me be. Let me hold my son, and tomorrow you can do whatever you want to me. But not now, please let me stay here.” 

He’s above her now, and his hand wraps around her arm and tugs her up, Henry slipping out of her grasp before she’s too high off of the floor. 

“No! Mama!” he starts to cry again and she can’t help but cry with him. 

Leopold has her up in the air, feet dangling as he grips tightly, bruising her arms. “You think that you’re able to make negotiations with me? That you have any rights here? You’re mine, Regina Mills. I can do whatever I want with you, whenever I want with you. Keep it up and maybe we can show that brat of yours what it’s like to leave these walls.” 

He throws her out onto the floor, and the last thing she sees is her son’s sobbing face before Leopold slams the door and kicks her into the adjoining room. 

He grabs her roughly and pushes her up against the wall, fastening the straps around her as he growls. “You think you can just say what you want to all the time, don’t you bitch. When are you going to learn?” 

“Please, please I’m sorry. You can take me all day tomorrow, the next day, just please let me go back to my son. He’s hurt and afraid. Leopold plea-” 

He cuts her off with a fierce slap to her cheek. 

As he torments her she tries to block it out, tries to let her mind go blank as she’s become accustomed to, but she realizes that with each smack her sons cries grow louder and louder. 

He can hear them. 

Oh god, he’s been able to hear them this entire time. Has listened to these vile men use her, listened as she’s pleaded for forgiveness, as she’s begged them to stop. Every slash, every cry, every smack. He can hear them all. No wonder he’d been crying, it wasn’t just for her to stay with him, but for her to stay safe. 

She hopes she can save them from this, that one day this will all be a distant memory and not their harrowing reality, but with one final crack of the belt against her skin and listening as her son screams for her, she finally blacks out. 

Day 2043

Today was the first day of the trial against Gold, and she was terrified to her core. Leopold has taken a plea, a lighter sentence in return for testifying against Gold, and her mother’s trial was still pending. Her nightmares have been coming back, she’s been waking in the middle of the night, her heart pounding and sweat pouring from her brow. On the nights she spent with Robin he would wrap her in his arms and press soothing kisses to her brow with promises of a better tomorrow.  But on the nights she stayed at Zelena’s she would wake screaming, sweating, tears pouring down her face. 

She hasn’t faced the men since she escaped, hasn’t seen them other than their mugshots posted in that little information box on the news, and she truly doesn’t want to. Facing her mother hadn’t been easy in the slightest, but facing the men who had kept her tied up and tortured her for 1540 days was a torment she didn’t want to subject herself to. But the detectives had informed her that to lock them up, she would need to testify at the trial. She would need to face them and tell her story, over and over, with the hope that a jury would believe her. 

She stares at herself in the full length mirror in the corner of her bedroom, clad only in a bra and panties, eyes trailing over every scar and wound that still covers her skin. Robin’s in the shower, humming to himself, and while he calms her heart she still picks out her every flaw, every disfigurement. 

The shower shuts off and she can hear him rustling around the bathroom, the swish of the towel as he pulls it from the hanger and wraps it around him. When he comes out she’s still standing there, eyes him through the mirror and gives him a little shy smile. 

“I’m doing it again,” she whispers, and when he wraps his arms around her and pulls her back into his warm chest, she can feel the tears pricking in her eyes. 

He’s seen her in her underwear before, has examined every mark upon her body both as a doctor and as a boyfriend. They haven’t had sex yet, another thing that keeps her up at night, the neverending anxiety that he’ll leave her for someone less broken, but he’s heard the stories of each of her scars. Listened as she mapped over them with her fingertips and recollected each horrifying tale of her days in captivity. 

“That’s okay, love,” he replies, kissing her cheek. “You’re nervous, with every right to be.” 

The first few tears start to fall and she brushes them away, tries to dispose of them before he can notice. “I’m scared, Robin.”

“I am too.” 

Her eyes lift in the mirror and meet his, “You are? Why?”

“For you. This, Regina… This is the bravest thing anyone has ever had to do. You, my love, are the most incredible person I’ve ever met. And everyday I find new things to love about you. And today is no different. You’re scared now, and that’s okay. You’ll probably be scared throughout this whole process, and that’s okay too. But you won’t be alone. People out there, me, Henry, Zelena, Archie… We’re all here for you, every step of the way. You have the best lawyer in the country, and before she became a prosecutor she was a victim witness advocate. I have no doubt that Mal is going to make this as easy as she possibly can.” 

“She’s promised she will. She swears she won’t let me get persecuted out there. And I know that, I trust her… But it’s so hard to face them. Albert Spencer is a damn good lawyer too, and they have the money for the best. This whole town is corrupt, Robin. But the worst is them knowing. Knowing what they did to me, knowing that they’ve seen me at my worst. They’ve all seen every imperfection I have, both physically and and mentally.” 

Robin turns her in his arms, away from the mirror, and her gaze connects with his. “Well then, let’s show them the Regina I know. The one that, through all of this, is the brilliant woman that I fell in love with. You think they’ve seen you at your worst, love, then let’s make them see you at your best.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any prompts that you wish to see, please let me know! Thank you SO much for reading. Let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For OQ Update Month

Day 1983 

200 Days. 

It’s been 200, full, free days. 

It’s exhilarating, the feeling that she’s actually free from it all. There’s still so much that she has to go through, the therapy appointments and the trial, but it’s getting easier as the days continue on. The best part though, undoubtedly, is Henry. 

He’s so free, her little boy. It’s been beautiful seeing how much he enjoys life, in a way she hadn’t thought possible for so long. She’s found, especially in the past few weeks how envious she is of him, of how easily he’s adjusted to their new life. It’s been little things, like how quickly he picked up on using Robin’s television set, or how excited he was to pick out his own bed sheets. Things that she took for granted for so long, things she hadn’t imagined he would ever be able to do now free for them to experience together. 

Henry loves bugs, much to her surprise. He’s found himself infatuated with  _ A Bugs Life _ and butterflies, specifically. When they were… away, as she’s taken to calling it, he had one butterfly book. It was small, with little flaps that lifted with facts about each butterfly and he was obsessed with it, carried it around their cramped room and asked her to read it to him constantly. When they’d gotten out it was easy to try and shove down those memories, harbor those years of her life far into the back of her mind, but it hurt more when she realized that it’s all he knows. 

She can’t push it down, can’t hide these feelings or try and tamp down the memories that still creep into her nightmares, not when her son asks about the cabin, about his book and his block and the few things they had that made that place a home, or some semblance of the word. 

It’s happened less as the days drag on, his questions about the cabin replaced with questions about Robin or Zelena, but a few still creep in that make her stop, make her chest tighten and heart race. 

The night before was hard, when he crawled into her bed and tucked himself against her arm, little palm patting against her skin. 

_ “Mama?” he asks, nuzzling his face into her arm.  _

_ Regina wraps him up in his blanket, tugs him over into her lap and presses a kiss to the crown of his head. “What’s wrong darling?”  _

_ “I don’t want to make you sad, but I have a question.”  _

_ It still guts her, knowing that he sees how broken she is, how her hands tremble when she gets lost in her own mind, or when she doubles over at a loud sound. She tries, begs to whatever gods are listening that her fears will dissipate, that she can feel normal for once in her life, but she can’t. She won’t. No matter how hard she tries, she’s still this broken woman, trapped in the body of an adult that should be able to function like everyone else.  _

_ Henry draws her back in, his palm patting her again. “Can I ask, Mama?”  _

_ “Yes, yes sorry baby,” she whispers, stroking her fingers through his dark hair.  _

_ “We aren’t going back, are we?”  _

_ Oh, oh god, how is she supposed to be strong for him when he asks things, her inquisitive little boy.  _

_ “No,” she chokes out, shaking her head. “We’re never going back there, I promise.” _

_ He nods, seeming to accept her answer before she hears him again, and her heart breaks. “I—I didn’t get to bring my book. I got my block, but—”  _

_ She can feel his tears against her skin and they match her own, the ones she cannot help but let fall into his hair. “Oh, Henry, we can go get you your book, I promise. Tomorrow you and I can go to the store and we’ll buy your butterfly book, and any other butterfly books we can find.”  _

_ “Really?”  _

_ “Really,” she whispers back, squeezing him in a tight hug. “But at the store, not at the cabin. We’ll never go back there again.”  _

_ “Good,” he nods, settling back against her chest. “I didn’t like it there.”  _

Every day is a step forward, a step toward the happy ending they’ve deserved since the beginning of all of this, and while she wishes the beginning of her son’s life was different, and even with every panic attack and uncomfortable question, she wouldn’t have it any other way.  

Day 1917

Her mother is here, she can feel it. 

Leaving the house after the press conference was not something she wanted to deal with, the reporters outside their door were bad enough, and while she was content spending the day on the couch with her son, Zelena has insisted they needed lunch. 

She had been gone for about twenty minutes, and when the doorbell rang, Regina knew. 

Henry was fast asleep on the loveseat, curled up under a blanket, a soft snore coming from his stuffy nose. 

The bell rang again, and then a knock, and even without opening the door, Regina’s gut told her that Cora was near.

She flips the latch and opens the door to the storm that is Cora, busting through to push herself into the foyer. 

“Regina, darling—” she reaches out, arms stretched for a hug. 

_ Hold your ground. Don’t show her the fear you feel inside.  _

“Cora,” she starts, and the look of astonishment at the sound of her first name already has Regina pleased. “What’re you doing here? We have a restraining order.” 

“Oh that nonsense,” Cora laughs, shucking her coat off and draping it over the railing. “You really thought that would stick, dear? Just like that silly bail they assigned. That was waved before they even had me in handcuffs. Which, I’m not sure  _ why  _ they think I need to be arrested. I’ve nothing to do with this matter.” 

Regina’s eyes widen and she lets out a laugh of disbelief. “You? Nothing to do with this? None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for you. You started all of this, with that ridiculous plot of having me kidnapped, like I meant nothing to you.” 

“Everyone had to make sacrifices during my candidacy, Regina. Just because yours were a tad more drastic doesn’t mean that you needed to share your sob story on the news. I will say, though, the press was brilliant at that, well done.” 

“You had me kidnapped, plotted a fake search party, and then found my ‘body’ and you think all of this is still about you? About your Senate seat? I know you’re self-centered, Cora, but you can’t truly be  _ that  _ vain. This has nothing to do with you anymore, except for the fact that you shouldn't be here. You need to get out. You have no right to be here anymore. You’re not my mother, you’re nothing to my son, and absolutely nothing to me. You don’t deserve us.” 

Cora rolls her eyes, stepping closer to Regina. “You’ve always been the more dramatic one in the family, you know that?”

It should mean nothing, the words of hate spewing out of her mother's mouth, but they burn, sting deeper and deeper with each hateful thought her mother throws at her. 

“When you were gone things were so quiet, besides Zelena’s blubbering. I didn’t have to deal with your rebellious teenage antics, the inevitable pregnancy you would have had. You were more of a hassle than it was worth, Regina, and you still are. Don’t let anyone fool you, when all of this blows over you’ll be alone again. No one cares about  _ ‘poor little Regina Mills’,  _ trapped in a cabin in the woods for a few years. The world will move on, and you and that little brat of yours will be lost in the dust. If you think that you’re going to win this, Regina, you’re wrong. Leopold, Gold, and I own this town, everything and everyone in it. What makes you think you’re strong enough to beat us? Some hot-shot shit lawyer, a pathetic doctor, and your helpless sister backing you against the biggest army in this town? Good luck, darling, because before you get your testimony out this trial will be over, and you will get what’s coming to you.” 

She feel the anger bubbling over, boiling within her blood and seeping from her fingertips. “You know what,  _ Cora,”  _ she seethes out, balling her hands up into fists. “Fuck you. I can’t deal with this anymore. You’re so pretentious… so  _ fake  _ about this entire situation. You had my life destroyed, and your head is so far up your own ass you can’t even see it that way. It just didn’t work out for you, so clearly screw anyone else affected by your selfish bullshit. And that’s what it is, Mother, it’s bullshit.”

Cora’s face is red, and she starts to stammer out a response but Regina grins at how positively good she feels, how she thrives off of the high of telling Cora exactly how she feels. 

“I wanted to be supportive of you all of those years, through everything, through Daddy dying, I tried. Zelena tried, and instead of loving us and helping us through the worst time of our lives, you used us. You broke us both, in vastly different ways but still, we don’t need you anymore. We have each other, and we have Henry, and regardless of what you believe, we are so much better without you. I believe the restraining order against you tells me that what you’re currently doing is illegal. So you can do yourself a favor and get out of my house.” 

Cora is fuming, her chest heaving as she storms past Regina and out of the house, slamming the door behind her. 

Regina watches through the window, her hands trembling. The second her mother gets into her car and drives off she collapses to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees and finally letting out the sob she’s been holding in. 

Day 236

This place is so  _ boring _ . 

She’s doodling in her notebook, pressed against the corner of the room with the book propped up on her knees. The pencil feels good in her hand, having finally received a new one because it’s her birthday. 

Her birthday, and she’s still locked in this place. 

The room isn’t awful. There’s a bed and above it a little window just high enough she can’t climb out, even though she’s tried. They’ve been letting her out of this room less and less though, and while she doesn’t mind sitting in here she’s starting to feel a bit stir crazy. Nottingham has gotten meaner in the past few weeks, and if her tally marks are correct, her mother’s assistant hasn’t been back in 37 days. 

They’ll come get her though and this will all be over soon enough.

Her mother’s assistant had been supplying her with little things, her notebook and pencil for one, so she can draw or write, or even just keep track of the days she’s been locked in here. It started the day she got there, the day that cop Nottingham her mother had hired drug her from her home and brought her out here, into this weird little cabin in the woods. It’s homely, though. He explained when he brought her out here that it was his parents, and now she assumes she can consider it her home until her mother’s election is over. 

It should have been a while back, though, if her calculations are correct. She’s trying to keep track of the dates, but the days are blending, except for today. Because it’s finally her 20th birthday. 

She was supposed to spend today with her friends, on a road trip to New York City, but instead she’s locked in this boring room, doodling a little birthday cake on her paper. She draws the cake, circles the tip of her pencil around the edge to draw the cute, decorative icing she always used to swipe up with her fingertip before her mother could catch her, and finishes off her drawing with one single candle, a wavy flame coming from the tip. 

It’s pathetic, but it gives her tiny sense of comfort, laced through with just enough hope that this will all be over soon, that she can finally return home and hug her sister once more. 

Day 1940

He’s so in love with her it hurts. 

She’s gorgeous, and so smart and kind, the human form of perfection chasing her son around the park. Her laugh draws him in and he watches her scoop Henry up into her arms, roll him up and blow raspberries against his stomach. It amazes him how hard he fell for her, how quickly he’s found himself infatuated by every part of her and the strength she emulates when she walks into a room. 

Regina sets Henry down, pats him on the back and turns to walk back toward him as Henry runs to the playground. 

“He good now?” 

She nods, sitting next to him. His palm is open against his knee, and when she slips her palm against his and curls her fingers, his heart skips a beat. The trust in this alone speaks volumes to their situation, and he loves her even more. 

“He wanted us to play tag with him, but I said we needed a minute. I know that you’d asked for lunch, not sure if you expected a toddler to tag along but—” 

“You don’t ever need to apologize for your son, Regina. I love that boy as much as I’m sure I could love my own child, if I had one. Don’t worry one bit.” 

She blushes, tilts her head up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “You’re too good to us,” she whispers, dropping her head to his shoulder. 

“Nonsense,” he laughs, squeezing her hand. They stay like that for a moment, his thumb tracing circles over her knuckle, watching Henry bounce from step to step on the jungle gym. “You know,” he starts, “I’m really happy that we’re doing this.” 

Regina lifts her head and his gaze meets hers, heart swelling at the look of hope on her face. 

“Yeah?” 

“I think you owe it to yourself to find happiness. And if I’m lucky enough to be a part of that journey, I’ll always be grateful to you and your son. The two of you saved me from leaving this place, from packing up and moving to a new town to start this whole process over again, and I’m so thankful for that. I knew there was a part of Storybrooke that I needed to find, and they day the two of you showed up at my office you saved me. You brought purpose into my life, and now I want to see nothing more than your happiness.” 

Her hand comes up, cupping his cheek as she leans in and kisses him. It’s chaste and slow but he loves it, brings a hand to her waist to give her a light squeeze. 

When she breaks from the kiss the smile that brightens her face makes him happier than he’s felt in so long. 

She ducks her head, brings her free hand up to swipe her thumb over the corner of his mouth where he assumes her lipstick has smudged against his skin. 

Before he can say anything else Henry runs over to them, crashing into the spot where their legs are pressed together. “Can we play now? Please Robin?” 

He scoops Henry into his arms, standing as they go off onto the playground, Regina trailing behind them. 

They play for an hour, chasing Henry around the playground, following along with whatever games he concocts in his head. While they chase after her son, he stops, can’t help but watch her a she spins Henry around on the little merry-go-round, the joy beaming from her face. 

Henry finally starts to slow, the excessive energy he has wearing him down. He’s starting to get grumpy too, arguing when the game doesn’t turn the way he wants it to, and Regina decides it’s time for them to go back to the house. At the mention of a mid-afternoon nap Henry starts to full on whine, tears collecting in the corner of his eyes. 

“I don’t want a nap,” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. “I want to play.” 

Regina looks exasperated, sighing and kneeling to the ground to try to reason with Henry, who continues to grow more and more upset. He sees her frustration rising and kneels down, a hand resting on the small of her back. “May I?” he asks, and she gives him a short nod. 

“Henry, come here.” He looks up and the poor boy looks pathetically sad, fat tears rolling down his cheeks now. “You’re tired, my boy. We can go back to my cabin and you can get in a good nap there, and when you wake, maybe you and your mum can stay for dinner? We can cook whatever you’d like, and play some more at my house.” 

Henry sniffles, wiping his tears with the back of his hand a bit aggressively. “P—pancakes?” 

Regina stifles a laugh, and Robin glances over at her with a grin. “You want pancakes for dinner?” 

“Mhm,” Henry nods, snuffling forward to press himself into Robin’s chest, burying his head against him. “Apple pancakes, that Mama makes, and eggs. Breakfast foods.” 

Robin collects Henry against him, slips an arm against the backs of his knees and lifts him as he stands. Henry shifts in his arms and settles, resting his head against Robin’s shoulder. “I think breakfast for dinner sounds like a splendid idea.” He holds his hand out for Regina, who slips her hand into his, and helps her up from the spot on the ground. 

“That sounds perfect,” she smiles, linking her hand with his as they walk back to the cabin. 

Henry’s asleep by the time they get to the cabin, his hand curled into a fist against Robin’s chest, snoring lightly into his ear. 

“He out?” Regina whispers, running her palm over her son’s back. 

“Out cold,” Robin whispers back. “I can set him up in my bed, that way he’s comfortable. Sorry, if I was quick to make a choice here. I—I wanted to spend some more time with you today, if you don’t mind. I should have asked—” 

“You’re fine,” she laughs. “I want to spend more time with you too, so this works out perfectly. I do hope we’re not imposing on you though.” 

“Never. Here, let me go set him down and I’ll come back in a few minutes.” 

When he comes back down the steps there’s a fire lit in the fireplace, and she’s curled herself up in the chair closest to the hearth, one of his medical books propped open in her lap. 

“Find something interesting?” he asks, lifting her legs to take the spot next to her, draping her legs back over his lap. 

“What made you want to become a doctor?” she asks, flipping through the pages of the book, scanning over the pictures and words. 

“When I was a teenager, I used to be obsessed with the human heart. I would look at diagrams of it, drawing and these old images from science textbooks. I wanted to know everything. How it worked, why it worked, and the opposite of that as well. There was so much to learn and I spent my days pouring through books, like I couldn’t get enough information. We were poor, though, and so I was always at the library. I’d have these piles of books around me, and it was on that floor I decided that I wanted to become a doctor, but I knew I couldn’t afford it.” 

She closes the book somewhere in the middle of his story, reaching out to draw his hand into her lap, her thumb tracing over the lines on the back of his hand. 

“I started stealing. Little things, at first, and I would pawn them off to make money. I had a job too, they ended up hiring me at the library to stock books. I worked as hard as I could so that I would at least have a base, something to get myself into college at least. I did good, for a while, kept the stealing down so I wouldn’t draw suspicion. Unfortunately though, I got caught one day. 

I thought I was good, thought that I could break into this office and pawn a few more expensive things. I was from Sherwood, and we’d come on family trips to Storybrooke when my Dad needed to get a few things for work. I snuck away, of course, and found this big office with the door unlocked. I thought it was my luck, but when I got the first few things into my pocket, there was this man standing in the doorway. He wasn’t too tall, and he was kind of round. He looked like a dad, honestly, standing there with his arms crossed, watching me pocket his possessions. I was so scared, sweating and shaking. I kept apologizing to the man, and he stopped me and asked why I was stealing. I started to tell him about college and my dreams of going to med school, and he listened. 

When I’d finished putting it all back, he asked me a few more questions. They were random, not pointed toward my stealing his things, but more fatherly questions, and I broke down and explained everything, how I knew that we could never afford it and all of that. I was so broken and afraid at that point. I was convinced that he would call the police, would have me locked up and sent off. My parents would find out, and everything I had been working toward would have been for nothing.” 

She’s still listening and he trails his free hand up her leg as he recalls the part of his life that gave him his start. He hasn’t looked up at her once during his story, the shame of his illegal misfortune making him shy away from her, so he focuses on her leg, drawing stars against her with the pad of his finger.

“He sat me down and explained why he wasn’t going to call the police on me. I was so relieved, so thankful for the second chance he was giving me. I was stealing a lot from him, and it was surprising. But then, he made me promise that I wouldn’t steal again. There was no way I could afford school without it, and my savings had just started building up. He told me that if I stole my way into school it would mean nothing— that all of my hard work would be laced with regret and dishonesty, and that it was no way for a man to live. If I wanted to be a true man, and live with a code of honor, I needed to stop immediately. 

He then offered me a job. It was minor, little things that I could do when I came to Storybrooke with my father, but it meant so much. He worked with me, let me learn from him and… Without him, I wouldn’t be who I am today, wouldn’t be where I am today. I never would have made it through school by stealing, I would probably be in jail by now. He gave me that opportunity. When he passed away, I was heartbroken. My dad let me borrow the car and I stood far in the back. I couldn’t see them, but I listened to his daughters tell this beautiful story of hope and how their father was a good, pure man. I didn’t want to go up but I hid out all the way in the back and listened for a while to people talk about how good of a man Henry was.” 

Regina’s breath stutters and he looks up, sees the tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“Oh, oh no Regina I’m sorry love, what’s—” 

She shakes her head, wipes the tears and presses a palm to her chest, calming her breaths with the technique he saw Archie teach her. 

“Henry was his name?” she asks, her words coming out broken through her breathing technique. 

“Yes, Henry. I never knew his last name though, and I was afraid to be seen at the funeral so I didn’t get that little booklet thing that they pass out. Why?” 

“That speech about hope, that was me. And the good, pure man part was Zelena. It took us so long to write that speech, and was even harder to tell that story. My father was a good man, the  _ best _ man. He, um, he spoke of you to us before. The young thief in his office, and how we should always listen to a story before forming judgements. He was so proud of you, when you got into college. He beamed about it for weeks.” 

“He was your Dad?” 

Regina nods, scoots herself closer to curl up against Robin, laying her palm against his chest. 

“It makes me so happy, knowing that even from wherever he is now, that he somehow led me to you.” 

They share stories of her father, tangled up with one another on the couch. Their tears turn to laughter, through each story and recollection of an easier time, before kidnappings and intensive trials. About an hour later Henry makes his way down the steps, dragging the blanket Robin had draped over him behind him. 

He climbs up into their lap, tucks himself in the small space between the couch and their legs and looks between them both. 

“Hello darling,” Regina smiles, her voice soft. She reaches a hand up and tucks a fallen strand of hair back from Henry’s forehead. “How was your nap?” 

He yawns, curls the blanket up and rubs it against his cheek. “It’s good. I’m hungry now, though. Can we still have pancakes?” 

He and Regina both laugh, agreeing that they can make pancakes. Henry cheers and hops off of the couch, in the best way he’s able to, and scampers off into the kitchen. Robin gets up as well but before he can follow him, Regina tugs on his hand and turns him back toward her. 

“I know that I keep saying thank you, and you keep telling me that it’s not necessary, but it is. This,” she waves a hand between them, “Us, your relationship with Henry… It’s all so beautiful. I didn’t think that he would have someone like you, not so soon at least, after we got out. I didn’t think that anyone would…” She stops, dropping to look down at her feet as she sucks in a breath. “I didn’t think that anyone would want me, like it seem as though you do.” 

“I do,” he cuts in, pressing his finger to her chin to lift her head to look at him. “I do want you, Regina, in any way you’ll allow me. I love you, I mean that.” 

She smiles and presses her palm to his arm, curling her fingers around him. “I love you too. But just, let me thank you too, for a while. Until this becomes normal. And until the times I see you holding my son or listening to him with respect doesn’t make my heart do somersaults in my chest, I’m going to say thank you. I want you to know, that through all of this and how— how my brain is, sometimes, that I really do appreciate you. Your patience is more than I deserve, and I know that this is going to take time. There’s a lot going on up there that I want to work through, and I owe it to you to try.” 

She’s perfect, and so, so far from correct in this. He lifts his hand, cups her cheeks and presses his forehead to hers. “You should want to get better for yourself, love, not for me. I love you as you are, and I’ll love you through this process. You deserve to feel better, to heal from this on your own terms. And I’d feel honored if you let me help you along the way, in whatever way I can. This relationship, this— whatever it is, I’m all for it.” 

She tilts her head up and kisses him, drawing her hand up to curl against his neck. He knows her son is nearby, doesn’t want to startle the boy, but when she sighs into their kiss and parts her lips he can’t help but wrap his arms down and around her, tugging her against his chest. He can hear Henry bustling around the kitchen, and when his footsteps draw closer she breaks the kiss and steps back, catching her breath. 

Henry runs into the room and collides with her legs, oblivious to the look they’re sharing over his head as Regina licks her lips and worries her bottom lip between her teeth. 

They can’t get another word out before Henry’s got them both by the hand, pulling them with as much strength as he can muster into the kitchen. There are apples already on the counter, and the eggs for the batter, and a pan that will not work for the food he wants, but he looks so proud of himself for getting them set up that they can’t help but praise him. 

Henry pulls the stool out, climps himself up onto the stool and kneels so he can see well over the counter. 

Regina comes up behind him, wraps him in a hug that has him laughing. “Do you remember how to cook pancakes Henry?” 

“Nope! But you do, don’t you Mama?” 

“Oh of course I do. You know that Mama’s make the best pancakes ever.” 

“Yes! Robin, have you ever had apple pancakes? They’re the best.” 

“I haven’t,” he smiles, coming around to the other side of the counter. “But I do hear they’re pretty tasty. And if they’re anything like your Mum has made before, I’m sure they’re going to be delicious.” 

Day 1950

“So, tell me about Robin.” 

“What about?” she asks. Her anxiety is already high and so she’s picking at pieces of her pants, the frayed little strings hanging off from the seams of her jeans. “He’s a… friend, I guess.” 

“You love him though, don’t you?” 

“More than I’ve loved anyone else, except for Henry, of course. He’s so much for us, so good for us. He’s been there through everything that Henry and I have been through, and he stays so positive in all of it. I don’t deserve him, Archie, I really don’t.” 

“You don’t think you deserve happiness? After all this time?” 

His question is difficult, requires more thought that she wanted to put into today’s session, but it’s out there and she should be using her therapy time a bit more wisely. “I don’t deserve much of anything, really. This is all my fault. I know what I want in the end, at least I think that I do. Henry deserves a real father, someone who can take him to baseball games and help him tie his tie at his first school dance. And…” she stops again, taking a deep breath. 

“I’m afraid that through all of this, I’m not going to get any better. That sooner or later, Robin is going to realize that and this will all be for nothing. I know that he would never leave, never abandon Henry. He’s made that certain. But what if he grows to resent me? What if he realizes that I may never get better, and that my brain is trapped in all of this.” 

Archie doesn’t speak for a moment, just listens, and she doesn’t know what to say. 

“Regina, you will get better. It’s going to take a while, you’ve been through more trauma than some people go through in a lifetime, bit you will overcome this. I’m going to be honest, you may not recover fully. There will be highs and lows through this, and you’re going to have to put in a lot of work, but overall it will get better. And Robin does love you. I’ve known him for quite some time now, and the way he looks at you is better than I’ve seen him look at anyone.” 

She can feel the tears, the stupid tears creep up with her insecurities, and she tries to push them down but they fall harder as Archie continues. 

“The best way toward your rehabilitation is to let people in, let them help you. Robin, Zelena… they want what’s best for you. They want you to be happy, and live a full, healthy life, and they want to help you along that journey. Letting them in, letting them see you through the ups and downs is what’s going to help you. It’ll be rough, and as I said before, there are going to be times where you’re going to be low. That’ll be the time you should go to them, let them hold you through it. You don’t always have to be alone, Regina.” 

“It’s so hard though. Every time I was perceived as weak, or small, my mother drilled it out of me, that having a weakness isn’t acceptable. So now, with all of this happening to me, that part of me broke. I was so weak, so helpless for the past few years. I tried to fight back, at first. I wanted to fight them, to break through everything and just get out before it was too late, but they—the things they did to me are unspeakable, and it ruined me. They took my soul and tore it up, ripped it into pieces and shredded every strong bit of me left. 

I want to do good though. I want to be who I was, the strong person that I was before they broke my spirit. If I don’t get past this, they’ll win. Even in jail, or hell, or wherever they may end up, they shouldn’t be able to beat me. And I want to be with Robin. I love him so much. He makes my heart swell when I see him, and the more I talk with him the more I look forward to our next time together.” 

“That’s a good thing. You deserve to have that happiness.” 

“I want that happiness, too. I want to be better for him. I think that Robin is my way toward the dream of my happy ending that kept me alive in that stupid, awful cabin. And I owe it to myself to find out.” 


End file.
